


twisting, twirling, twine

by last_beginning



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, i hope you enjoy nonetheless, just over 500 words, more poetry and metaphorical, than straight up a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26618002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/last_beginning/pseuds/last_beginning
Summary: Courage, Power, and Wisdom, have been bound together again and again, in an endless dance of bloodshed. This is not the breaking of that cycle.
Kudos: 4





	twisting, twirling, twine

Courage takes Wisdom’s hand, and together they begin to spin. The dance is practiced, and they perform with ease and perfection. Planned to a point, they step and spin and dip and rise. Perhaps there may have been some variation when they were new and fresh to this dance. But it falls into repetition, beautiful and horrible. 

Power will move into their dance, then, and the pattern will shift. Brand new steps, but all to the same song. He will stand between Power and Wisdom as they twist and twirl, and the music will sing to them in that same familiar song. If pressed, they could recite the notes with ease. Yet there is no one to press, as any other parties sit amongst the crowd, watching them dance.

Courage and Power step in two-time, and Power falls, and Courage and Wisdom unite, leaving footprints in the blood along the dancefloor. The dance continues, perfect and uninterrupted. It had never been disturbed in the first place.

Perhaps, if Courage were not Courage, it would not be crushed by the weight that resides on its shoulders. It could live a life of peace, of satisfaction. A life working in the Cuckoo coop, or tending to horses. Perhaps it could live a life with that rusted voice polished to perfection. Courage, however, is Courage, so it does not. 

Perhaps, if Power were not Power, it could be free from the darkness that looms over it. It could find a place where it is not feared and loathed, and served out of terror. It could rest, and find true allies and true life, and be satisfied. Perhaps it could shake hands with others, and not fear daggers up their sleeves. Power, however, is Power, so it does not. 

Perhaps, if Wisdom were not Wisdom, it could change the world. It could pull history together from the frayed pieces, and weave a world where everyone could know. A world where everyone would be prepared, where everyone knew and saw fate as it waited, resting and building its poison in the margins of history. Perhaps it could never be caged again. Wisdom, however, is Wisdom, so it does not.

Perhaps, if they were not Courage, Power, and Wisdom, they could be people once more. Courage, Power, and Wisdom, however, are themselves, so they dance. Courage and Wisdom step through the blood, marking familiar footprints, as Power stands once again to interrupt the dance. Interrupt, as the dance always requires. 

Perhaps, one day, the Mother will whisper to Courage, Power, and Wisdom. Perhaps she will tell them It can never truly end, or Fate claimed your positions long ago, or perhaps she would say I’m sorry. Perhaps she would say anything at all. Perhaps, however, is not where fate deals, and they step blindly once more into the perfect patterns of the dance. The song goes on. 

Perhaps Courage, Wisdom, and Power would cry at the sound, but they have gone deaf from the plucking of strings and blows of woodwinds millennia before.


End file.
